A young boy was traveling by ship when a terrible storm overtook them. The other passengers were wealthy merchants. Each one reached into his bag and took out a small idol — some carved in bone, some in silver, some in ivory — and began to pray aloud, clutching the figure to his chest. The wind continued to howl. The waves did not slacken. The prayers produced nothing.
The boy was too poor to own an idol. He had no figure to hold. While the others shouted, he lay down on the deck and went to sleep. The passengers woke him in a panic. "We are all going to die! Pray to your god too!" The boy stood up, closed his eyes, and prayed to the God of Israel. The sea immediately grew calm.
When the ship reached port, each passenger went ashore to buy food. The boy stayed behind. "I have no money," he said. The merchants, still shaken by what they had seen, replied, "Your God is with you everywhere. You cannot be truly poor."
The boy gave them the final answer. "Your god hangs on your neck — close to your body, but far from its power. My God, though He seems distant, is always near." The merchants were so moved that when they landed they all prayed to the God of Israel.
Gaster's Exempla of the Rabbis (1924, No. 400, from the Ben Attar collection) preserves this story as a parable about proximity. Idolatry offers a god close at hand and easy to carry, but useless in a storm. The God of Israel cannot be held in a pocket — and that is precisely why He can be reached from the deck of a sinking ship.